What Daddy Doesn't Know Won't Hurt Him
by TorchwoodFallenAngel
Summary: John finds out about his son's relationship. Wincest.


Ok. This is apparently one of the best pieces of FanFiction I've done yet. I'm not bragging, I'm just passing on what made me publish this. Ok, maybe I'm bragging slightly! This was inspired by a flash of "What if John found out?" followed by "How would he find out?" and then "What the hell would he do?".

This is also to make up to the people who asked for a sequel to "Confession". I'm sorry but that's going absolutely nowhere in my mind so have this instead and please don't kill me!

Anyway, I hope you like it and please remember to Read, Enjoy and Review! Thanking you all!

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><p>John Winchester was going to be sick. His stomach churned in disgust and horror, eyes unwillingly glued to the scene in front of his eyes.<p>

Sammy, his youngest son, only twenty-three and still so innocent, was sprawled on a crummy motel bed, shirtless and wanton. His head was thrown back, face contorted as if in unimaginable pain or exquisite pleasure, breathy gasps falling swift and filthy from lips that were obscenely, perversely red.

Hovering over him like a predator of some kind- a wolf or a lion- crouching low over a lamb, was Dean. Sam's older brother. He was shirtless as well and was grinning a demons grin. But it was what he was doing that made John's stomach turn; he was trailing kisses, interspersed with light, dangerous nips and filthy words, all over his younger brothers chest and neck, hands all the while pinning Sam's arms above his head.

Sam made a deep, wretched, pleading noise that echoed in John's ears and Dean chuckled evilly, his grin turning feral. Then, and oh God John wanted to retch and scream and swear and curse, the older man reached down, put his hand between Sam's legs and did something that made the younger man writhe and thrash and whimper and groan in the most debauched manner imaginable.

"Do you want more Sammy? Well, do you? All you need to do is say it Sammy, say that you belong to me. That you're mine and only mine."

John could almost see the words fall from his eldest's mouth, black as sin and staining Sammy's soul as they fell, dark and oily against the previously pure canvas. Surely this couldn't be Dean and Sam? John turned to face the woman who had done this but she just shook her head sadly, pity in her deep blue eyes. It was real. He was seeing what was happening right now, five hundred miles away in a shabby, grimy motel room somewhere in Milwaukee. Oh god.

When had this happened? When had Dean shifted, changed into the disgusting, vile incubus that was now kissing Sammy, hands wandering and stroking in places they should never even touch? When had his oldest son turned into a twisted, incestuous rapist? And most of all, for how long had he been taking advantage of his younger brother, persuading him to play along with his sick, perverse fantasies? John could barely bear to think about it. When had this started? _How_ had it started? Images flashed through the man's mind, thick and fast and all as repulsive and repellent as the last. Finally they stopped, leaving only one burnt into the hunter's mind, sickening and nauseating.

Sam, only fourteen, maybe fifteen, fast asleep, dreaming of things a boy his age should dream of. The bedroom door opens, slowly, silently, and Dean slips in, cloaked in darkness, lust and feral hunger in his eyes. He gazes in longing at his brother, the hunger and desire sweet and dangerous in his veins, a poison spreading throughout his body. The older boy moves forward, more a man now; eighteen years old and one who has finally built up the courage to act on his most revolting of desires. He steps right up to the bed and leans down, hot breath ghosting over his kid brother's face. In one swift, fast movement he pulls off the covers, leaving the boy's entire body, only clad in pair of loose jogging bottoms, completely exposed to his roving, predatory eyes. Sam shivers, start to wake at the sudden cold, but Dean is prepared for this. He moves quickly, climbing onto the bed and straddling Sam, already achingly hard. He places one hand over his brother's mouth, smiling benignly down at the boy who is staring up at him, confusion and fear in his wide brown eyes.

"It's okay Sammy. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to do something. Don't worry, I promise you'll like it…"

John stopped the internal video there, his mind already filling in the unwanted, vile blanks. How could he not have noticed? For years he had suspected Sammy, believed him to be the wolf in their family. He wasn't. It was Dean. Dean was the wolf and Sammy the lamb, corrupted and violated and stained by his older brother.

This had to stop. Now. He was going to get Milwaukee as fast he could, one way or another, and stop this. Stop Dean. Any way possible.

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><p>Well, thanks for getting this far and please, please review! I don't know if I'll do a sequel to this but if you want to I would welcome it with open arms and cookies!<p>

TorchwoodFallenAngel


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